Sepia
by They-Call-Me-Orange
Summary: Stale Tobacco and Bleeding Peppermint. the life of Alex Nunez.
1. What? No Goodbye?

_Disclaimer: _**Now, I'm only going to say this once. Remember, this applies for every other chapter: I don't own Degrassi. So don't sue me.**

**Title: **"Sepia"

_**Genres: **General, Angst, Drama, Romance, at times (on a stretch) maybe Suspense. And Tragedy, even, eventually._

_**Rated: T** -_ maybe I oughta up it. There's lots of "mature" stuff to come. You guys tell me.

**_Writing Tools:_ **Microsoft Word, Windows Media player, my MP3 player, and a bunch of other shit you don't care about

_**Tunes:** I wrote this a few weeks ago, so I really don't remember. Probably something angsty and kind of Metal, though._

_**People: **Me. Me. Me... _

**_Author's Note:_ **This is an idea I've had for a while. Random snippets from the life of Alex. They'll be out of order and mostly really short. Some more so than others. I've got a kind-of-plot, which I might expand upon in a different format after I've got things wrapped-up here. Pairings here will be primarily Palex, though there will be Jalex - probably brief, but still there.

This story contains themes of abuse, largely domestic. I do not condone such actions. It's a serious problem everywhere, and I think there are too many people who don't realize it. There will be drug-use. Nothing to heavy, in fact, it's likely there won't be anything more serious than weed, but the warning is here anyway. This will contain a lesbian relationship. Don't like it, don't read it.

Warnings aside, I really hope you guys enjoy this. They'll all be (like I said) short, and because of this I'll be able to update every few days. Sometimes multiple chapters in one day. Keep in mind, that I am **now taking requests**(!!!). If there's something you'd like to see let me know. If I think it's within my ability and that it would fit in with the story I'll be more than happy to write it up. For all purposes we'll be saying Alex was born around 1987/1988, Paige being a year or so younger (these estimates from the website Degrassi-tng dot com). Most of the action will take place in their senior year of highschool (2005). This chapter, however, takes place much, much earlier.

Thanks for reading.

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**March 12, 1993**

**Nunez Household: 11:49 - PM**

**Hamilton, Ontario, Canada**

"Shut Up, Gerry!"

"You shut up, you stupid_ cunt!"_

_Crash._

_"_You bastard!"

"Fuck you!"

"Where are you going? Where the fuck do you think you're going?"

"Away from you and this shit excuse for a life!"

"You deadbeat idiot! You've got a daughter, you son of a bitch!"

"She ain't mine."

"Like hell she isn't!"

"Fuck you, Emily."

"Where are you going? _Where_ are you going?"_SLAM!_

_Silence._

"… Momma?"

"Y-yes, Lexi?"

"Where's Daddy?"

"He went out for a walk."

"Did… did he hurt you again?"

"No, baby."

"He isn't coming back, is he?"

"I don't know, Lexi."

"I love you, mommy."

"Go get me a beer out of the fridge, darling."

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**End Notes:** Please review. Since I don't get cash for you guys reading my shit I should at least get feedback, right? If you can take the five minutes to read you can take thirty seconds to type out a "u suck" or a "this was kool, update soon". But if you plan on doing the first one I'd rather have a "u suck, because...". But, really, I'm not that picky. All reviews are good reviews. 'Cept flames, but...

Okay, I'm done.

_-Orange_


	2. Clumsy

_Disclaimer: _**See previous chapter.**

**Tunes: **_"_Monkey Gone to Heaven"_ by the Pixies,_ "Jaws Theme Swimming_" by Brand New (it's like, my new Palex Theme Song, really helped inspire this story) and a bunch of other stuff it'd take a while to list._

**People: **_All my super awesome reviewers. Especially my constant ones, such as, AscaDuin, SpySkater, adidasfitgreat, and paige4alex. You guys rock. Seriously._

**Author's Note: **Not much to say, really. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy it. Oh, and the next update will be a double. Chew on _that._

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**June 6, 1998**

**Nunez/Teague Household - 3:37 PM**

**St. Catherines, Ontario, Canada**

She shut the door behind her, taking special care to make sure her entrance was completely silent. The last time she'd disturbed her mother and Ian from their respective hangovers she had been rewarded with a large, purple bruise that hadn't faded for two whole weeks. She set her backpack down, gently on the floor by the counter.

The kids at school had made fun of her again. Mrs. Burke had frowned concernedly and fussed over the yellowing bruise on her cheek.

(_I fell down the stairs)_

And Aaron Brewer had made fun of her clothes. Again.

She got into a fight with Stacey Warne for calling her poor, even though she was. At least that's what the kids told her. And the teachers said so too, when they didn't know she could hear them. She'd asked her mother what the word meant, once. She'd gotten really mad.

(_We are _not_ poor. _Not_ poor. We make ends meet, we don't take handouts. We're not _fucking_ charity cases. The day I go on the state is the day I just roll over and fucking _die

Alex didn't like school. The kids were mean and the teachers were nice. Not the good kind of nice. It was… She didn't quite know what it was. But it made her feel sticky and wrong. And ashamed.

She was good at reading, and she could remember stuff pretty well. Mrs. Burke said she just had to _apply_ herself.

Apply yourself.

Wash your hands.

Please and thank you.

Be a good girl and bring mommy a drink.

Stop crying. Crying is only going to make it worse for you.

Don't leave your room until I say it's safe.

Pray every night before bed and every evening before dinner.

If you scream I'm going to hit you so hard your head will split right open.

She blinked and opened the door to the bathroom. Her reflection looked sad. She scrunched her nose in distaste and fingered the healing cut on her cheek.

(I walked into a door, Missus Burke)

She traced the scar that disappeared from her forehead and into her hairline.

(I'm awfully clumsy, Missus Burke)

Her hands were small with long fingers and ragged nails bitten to the quick. Flecks of dried blood peered up from underneath dirty nails. Pinky bent slightly out at an odd angle from that time she had spilt Ian's beer and he had gotten short with her.

Short with her. That's what mom said when he got pissed and beat the shit out of her.

(Momma says I'll grow out of it.)

Ian snored loudly from the Big Room where he and Momma slept.

Startled she jumped backward, the sleeve of her jacket catching on the toothbrush cup. The plastic crashed to the ground and several items rolled out of it creating impossibly loud noises.

"Shit," she whispered fervently. As quickly as she said it she felt her face grow hot and she looked around hurriedly, to make sure no one had heard her. She swore once, in front of Ian and he had washed her mouth out with soap and belted her so hard she couldn't sit without flinching for weeks.

No one heard.

She was safe.

A slurred epithet and the familiar squeaking of bed springs rattled her skull.

(I'm awfully clumsy, Missus Burke)

Alex pressed her face into her hands and began to count down from fifteen.

(Awfully Clumsy)

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**End Notes:** Thanks for reading, guys. 

Review?

_-Orange_


	3. Flips

_Disclaimer: **See previous chapters.**_

_**Title: "**Flips"_

_**Tunes:** eighfourseven's EPs The Allegiance, and Silent Raid. Also, lots of the Pixies. And City and Colour. Lots of it._

_**People: **Those who reviewed. I love all of ya. _

_**Author's Note: **I screwed up with the first author's note. Senior year would be 2006. Sorry, my bad. I'd replace it, but... Yeah, I'm lazy, I know. I'm American. Honestly, what did you expect?_

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_**August 28, 2000**_

_**TO Liquor - 4:43**_

_**Toronto, Ontario, Canada**_

The sun was starting to set. Chill was beginning to set in, rolling in from some great body of water that was too far off to care about. Teddy kept staring at her. She scowled uncomfortably and turned to him.

_"What?"_

He smirked in that I'm-so-great way that she hated, "Nothin'…"

But his grin was too big for it to be nothin'.

"I'm serious, Ted."

He just looked smug and shook his head.

"Hey!"

"Jay! Dude!"

Alex looked to the foot of the alley. A boy stood there. Dark, shaggy hair, the ghosts of stubble, and blue eyes the color of an ocean. He wore a baggy nylon coat, backwards baseball cap, cargo pants, and scuffed Doc Martens. The boy jogged over to Ted and bumped fists with him before turning his gaze to her and raising an eyebrow.

"Teddy-boy… who's your friend?"

"Jayman, this is Alex. Alex this is Jay."

He smiled in a way that was somehow charming and derisive at the same time.

"Nice to meet you," the formalities sounded sly and sarcastic. When he extended his hand she just raised her eyebrows and shoved her fists into her coat pockets. The boy called Jay grinned. "Spunky."

When he winked at her, her stomach did flips.

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**_End Notes:_** Thanks for reading. And thanks in advance for reviewing. (Ha! Now you have to because I already thanked you!)

_-Orange_


	4. Fighting Brick Walls

**Disclaimer:** See previous chapters.

**Title:** "Fighting Brick Walls"

**Tunes: **_See last chapter_

**People:** _Uh... you! (Not really)_

**Author's Note:** I promised a double update. Three and Four are it. Read and tolerate.

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**December 5, 2000**

**TO Liquor - 5:18**

**Toronto, Ontario, Canada**

"Hey," Jay called, "what the hell happen to you? Get in a fight with a brick wall and lose?"

She glared sardonically up at him through a curtain of bangs, "You know me, Jay. Clumsy as fuck. I fell down the stairs. Again."

His eyes softened, becoming lighter and bluer, and her cheeks felt hot. She was glad for the hood that partially obscured her face. He reached out a rough, ungainly hand and brushed a lock of dark hair back from her face. "You gonna be okay?"

She nodded and fished a cigarette out of one of her pockets.

"Where's Ted?"

"Home. His old man is pissed 'cause he got caught stealing from the Mini Mart. Guess his five-finger discount is up, huh?"

She exhaled smoke and warm air, watching as they mingled and floated away in the starkly cold air.

"Guess so."

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**End Notes: **Review, please. I need to know what you guys think about this stuff so I know if I'm doing allright.

_-Orange_


	5. He

_Disclaimer:_ **See previous chapters.**

**Title:** _"He"_

_**Tunes:** "_Happy Birthday"_ by the Birthday Massacre, "_The Sleeping Sickness_" by City and Colour, and "_All the Best Cowboys Have Daddy Issues_" by Senses Fail._

**_People: _**DSW _- one of my favorite reviewers ever. You're cool and always one of the most in depth and I really appreciate and value your opinions, dude. Sucks that your anonymous, though, because I can't really reply to you 'cept like this._

**_Author's Note:_** Next chapter has the real Author's Note. Read that one.

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**February 30, 2001**

**Nunez/McCarran Household - 9:08 PM**

**Toronto, Ontario, Canada**

The dull, hollow sound of flesh upon flesh was something she'd become accustomed to. The pain that accompanied the sound, however, was something she was certain she'd never get used to.

But she'd gotten better at reacting.

This time she only screamed for a few seconds.

She wasn't quite sure how she went from standing to splayed-on-the-ground so quickly. The incredible spasms of anguish that engulfed her torso when his work boot made contact with her ribs made her vision go dark for a minute. He was sneering something derisive at her, now. She heard the words but couldn't understand them. He reached down and yanked her roughly to her feet.

Her legs gave out from under her and he grabbed and handful of hair to hoist her up. She gave a detached cry of distress but was promptly silenced by an open-palmed slap to the face. Her mother lay in a sobbing heap on the floor, blood seeping between the fingers covering her face. He was screaming in her ear now, pointing angrily and spitting as he orated. The room was spinning sickeningly.

He shoved her back to the ground and planted another firm boot to her back before storming out of the room.

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**End Notes:** The real End Notes are in the next chapter too. Whodathunkit?

_-Orange_


	6. 6th Avenue

_Disclaimer: **See previous chapters.**_

**Title:_ "_**_6th Avenue"_

**Tunes: **_The title is taken from the street where this chapter begins. I have this weird habit of taking things from my life and reflecting them onto the stuff I write. Especially when it comes to Street names. 11th Street and Division Street in particular are taken from song titles ("_11th Street_" by Open Hand and "_Division Street_" by Thursday). This one is taken from "_6th Avenue Heartache_" by the Wallflowers from the album Bringing Down the Horse. I thought it fit._

**People:**_Uh... yeah._

**_Author's Note:_ **Last of the Double Posts/Jay chapters. For a while, anyway. Jay is a character I honestly like. He's not that bad a guy, and we're supposed to see more of that later this season. Mike Lobel says so, anyway. And, c'mon, Mike is damn sexy. Would he lie? Next chapter is Palex, I swear.

Anyway, I'm going to warn you in advance that the chapter after this skips forward about five years. This time skipping is something you should get used to, I'll be doing it quite often. I'm posting these as they were written and the chapters take place at different times in Alex's life. You've been warned.

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February 30, 2001

6th Avenue - 10:20 PM

Toronto, Ontario, Canada

She stumbled along the empty street, choking on frozen air and the almost tangible ache in her lungs. Her legs were clumsy, and every step jarred her sore ribs. Her breath rattled like rocks in a tin can with every exhalation and a sledgehammer between her eyes slammed into her skull with every sluggish beat of her heart.

Somehow, amidst the fear and mindless running she's wound up in front of a familiar apartment. Jay lives here. She wonders, as she approaches the doors, why she came here, to this place. To him. But in the back of her mind she knows. She's known for a while. They fight all the time, pointless arguments, quick-witted banter, on a stretch you could call it flirting - though she refuses to acknowledge this yet. But that's just the outside.

They have a connection. Sometimes, they're so alike she thinks that they might be the same person. That's what Jay says. Or, said; _once_, after they begged a joint of Ted's older brother and smoked it in the alley behind TO. He knows what it's like to get your ass kicked for saying the wrong thing, or not acting right away, or just being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Jay knows what it's like.

He won't pity, and he won't ask questions.

She's not sure why she feels so strongly about this, but that doesn't change anything.

When he answers his door there's shock on his features, "Lexi?"

But before she can find the strength to respond he's reaching out and pulling her into the apartment. Clumsy, pre-teen hands showing surprising gentleness. Her head is heavy and her breath still rattles in that sick way that makes her nervous but he doesn't seem to care. When he locks the door behind them she notices, with disconnected interest, that he's shirtless - clad only in dull grey pajama pants. There's a tiny scar on his upper left peck that makes her feel like blushing but she doesn't think she has the extra blood to spare.

"Mom's drunk boyfriend?" it wasn't as much of a question as it appeared to be and nodding wasn't worth the effort.

Jay shuffled into the kitchen and grabbed a bag of frozen vegetables and a paper towel. He set them down on the coffee table and trotted into the bathroom. He returned a few moments later with several cotton balls and a half-full bottle of rubbing alcohol. She was slumped over against and arm rest, mind beginning to fog with the pain eyes sliding shut and then open sluggishly. The idea of sleep seemed almost too sweet to resist.

"Hey, hey! Don't_ do_ that!" Jay was next to her, suddenly, a hand on her face pulling her gaze to him. Patting her cheek lightly, careful not to open clotted wounds. Alex blinked herself into a more conscious state and tried to sit up, grunting softly at the effort.

"Hey…" his voice was gentle, his hands tender as he pulled her up and brought her body close to his. She felt warm tears slide silently down her cheeks and buried her face into his shoulder. "Shhh…" he stroked her hair and pressed a feather light kiss to her temple. He rocked her gently, letting her lean on him and saying quiet things that she couldn't understand.

"You're gonna be fine, Lex," he promised, voice quiet and slow, as if he were reassuring a very small child, "You're gonna be fine."

He brushed his lips across her ear as he spoke and kissed her cheek lightly.

The next day, wounds properly disinfected and bandaged by practiced hands, she walked home alone.

When they met again later that week no words were spoken about what happened that night.

The subtle, heavy gazes were more than enough

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**End Notes: **The more reviews I get the faster I'll post. The sooner I reach five the better your chances are that I'll post tomorrow. And the next chapter is the first time you guys will get Palex, here.

_-Orange_


	7. A Place

_Disclaimer: _**See previous chapters.**

**Title: "**A Place" Like That

**Tunes: **_Awww Hell, I don't even know anymore. I've totally lost track of what I was doing when I wrote these things because, honestly, I've got about 15+ chapters written and I can't remember that far back, okay?_

**People: **_This one goes out to The Calendar Girl. Yeah, I'm giving the first Palex chapter to you. Because you've been so cool about reviewing. But, really, I love all my reviewers. I'm serious... I'd marry you. Feel awkward yet? Good._

**_Author's Note:_ **Gonna say a few thing right now I just wanna get out of the way. This story can (and should) be considered AU (that's Alternate Universe for the un-savvy). I never go into how Palex hooked up, and I don't plan on it. You guys could use the Cannon thing and think "Movie Premiere" but really I don't give a shit and the premiere will most likely not be referenced to. There will be a few diary entries dealing with Alex's initial confusion and/or foreshadowing the get together but I will not be exploring the actual events of Paige and Alex becoming Palex.

In short, none of the events that will transpire in this story can really take place on a cannon Palex timeline because... I dunno, it just doesn't happen. Don't doubt _me_: I'm the author! This is where I'd insert some drawn out obnoxious laughter that's probably nothing more than a combination of "M"s, "W"s, "A"s, and "H"s. Usually in that order. Hope you enjoy it. If not, let me know.

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**January 15, 2006**

**Degrassi Community School - 3:44 PM**

**Toronto, Ontario, Canada**

"Hey, baby."

Alex raised her head and was greeted with a light, but affectionate, peck on the lips from her girlfriend. It was quick, and she felt as if she were being cheated. After a half-second of deliberation Alex decided to show Paige the proper way to greet each other. They broke the kiss after the cat-calls got especially loud. Paige huffed, Alex glared, and the idiots fell silent.

Taking a soft, pale hand in her own, Alex led the blonde out of the halls and out onto the front steps. The van was getting a tune-up, she remembered vaguely, Paige had to wait here for her ride. She sat down gingerly on the steps, trying very hard not to wince, or whimper. She must have done a pretty good job because Paige didn't say anything as she sat on the step in front of her and leaned back into Alex's arms.

Alex rested her head in the crook of the other girl's neck and nuzzled the soft hairs there. Enjoying the warm that flooded her stomach whenever she was so close to the girl. _I hope this never changes. This is how it should always be. _

"-ink so?"

Crap.

"Uh… what?"

Paige turned in her arms and gave her a look of mock-exasperation, "Do you _ever_ listen?"

Alex ducked her head a bit, and looked up in that way that Paige told her was "absolutely _adorable_" and prayed that it was, "Yes?"

Paige rolled her eyes but resumed her former position. Alex let loose a breath she hadn't known she was holding. "So, I was just talking about how Hazel says that pink is the new black. But I thought that _blue_ was the new pink. So does that make blue the new black? I asked her and she said, 'no, that's stupid', but how can it be stupid because…"

Alex smiled and chuckled a bit; she regretted it instantly. The pain that shot up her torso immediately afterwards was enough to make her have to clamp her teeth down on her tongue _very hard _to keep in the shriek that had made a home in her chest. _Ow._ She winced. _Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow._

"Lexi?"

Paige turned around, apparently put-off by her girlfriend's lack of attention. Panic flared in front of Alex's shut eyelids and she slapped a fake smile on her face as quickly as she could. "Yes, baby?"

Paige frowned, a delicate hand coming up to trace that faint white scar that passed through Alex's bottom lip. She sighed, quietly and met the taller girl's gaze, "What's wrong, hon?"

Keep it cool. You're fine. She'll be fine. No one's gotta know, "Nothin'."

"Don't lie to me."

"I'm fine, really," she didn't really expect Paige to believe her, but she almost convinced herself, "Just… drop it, okay?"

Maybe it was the pleading in her voice, or the sadness in her eyes; whatever it was Paige relented and went back to babbling on about Heather Sinclair's terrible lime-green gauchos. But concern lit her voice, clouded her blue-green eyes, lingered in the soft kiss they shared when her father pulled up in his sensible, fairly-new Buick to whisk her away to a place without bruises, or quiet-anger, or helplessness.

Alex watched them go and wished for a place like that.

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End Notes:** If I get enough reviews next chapter will be up tomorrow (3/17). 

_-Orange_


	8. What Love Should Be Like

_Disclaimer:_**See previous chapter.**

**Tunes:** "Casey's Song" _by City and Colour,_ "A Story for Supper"_ by Lydia,_ "Fake Plastic Trees"_ by Radiohead._

**People: **_All my reviewers, adidasfitgreat especially for letting me know about the really cool new Degrassi Mini "Lost in Degrassi" which I watched and laughed at about five minutes before I posted this._

**Author's Note:** This one's a bit mature because _things_ are _implied._ _Things _that make some people uncomfortable. This is your warning.**

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**February 2, 2006**

**Michalchuk Household - 7:51 PM**

**Toronto, Ontario, Canada**

Paige's breath was warm and in her mouth Alex could taste the chocolate she'd bought her as an early Valentine's Day present. A soft hand raked her back, beneath her shirt, its twin buried in her hair, Paige's leg wrapped delicately around her waist, bringing their bodies closer.

The lust that had been building, low and hot in her belly was making her thoughts hazy and disorganized. This was better than any chemical high she could ever have experienced. Alex liked the noises Paige made when she stimulated that sensitive spot behind her ear and broke the kiss to hear them again.

"Alex…" it was breathy and could have been said in pleasure. But maybe not.

Despite her body's protests she pulled away, detaching her lips from moistened skin. She was only vaguely surprised when she saw her hand on Paige's breast and regretfully removed it. Or tried to. A firm hand on her wrist ceased her movement and she peered up, partially alarmed, through a thin curtain of dark hair that had fallen over part of her face during the course of their activities.

Paige had beautiful eyes. They weren't the color of the sea. They didn't sparkle with mischief. They didn't light up at the mention of spark-plugs and shoplifting and narcotics. But when they met hers they made her feel… important. Or something. They could make her heart pound five times faster, or, even stop completely.

Paige had _beautiful_ eyes.

"What are y-"

"Shh…" they were whispering, even though they were alone in the house together, "just… keep going."

"I don't want to-"

"You don't _want_ to?" was that shock or hurt in Paige's voice?

"Well, I mean, not if you don't want to," the emotions lay heavily in her ribcage, pulsed thickly in her veins, wound tightly around her throat and made her words feel clumsy and inarticulate. Maybe they were. "I would _never_ push you into something you didn't-"

Paige sighed, stroking Alex's cheek with two gentle fingers, "You're not. And you haven't. I think maybe that's why I feel like I can do this. You just… you make me feel like it's…"

She trailed off, the half-finished sentence carried weight. Her lips were soft as ever, and in her mouth Alex could still taste chocolate. Tentative hands removed cumbersome clothing. Shy glances spoke a hundred words. Silence pressed down upon them like a leaden blanket; stealing the breath from their lungs and the sentences from their lips.

Fingers, mouths, whispers, moans.

Their love was spun of silk. So delicate and fragile and beautiful.

Sandcastles built of touch and sound and sensation.

They shattered, together, with a moan and a shudder.

It was nothing especially extraordinary. There were no monumental climaxes. No shrieks of passion or ecstasy. No breathless declarations of undying love.

But it was everything it should have been. Every thing it needed to be.

And when it was over, and Paige lay in the crook of her arm, breathing softly, still silent; Alex thought it was the most beautiful experience of her life.

She thought that This Is What Love Should Be Like.

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**End Notes:** I'm running out of stuff to say in these things. Review or I'll eat your brains.

-_Zombie Orange_


	9. Taste

_Disclaimer: _**See previous chapters.**

**Title: **"Taste"

**Tunes: **_AI don't listen to very many of the bands Ellie lists in this chapter (the first three aside) but if you do I meant no disrepect. I just don't think Alex would be into them. And, yeah, that's my excuse. Stuff I did listen to, however are as follows: "_Not the Sun"_ by Brand New_ "Asking For It"_ by Hole, _"All That I've Got" _by the Used (which are the lyrics used), and "_Zzyzx"_ by eightfourseven._

**People: **_**Sdny **for being the **50th** review (yay! 50!) this story has gotten, **adidasfitgreat** for being so frickin' awesome all the time. Also shoutout to **sabbath purr** 'cause she's awesome like that, you should go read **In the Calm of the Night - **and review itAnd **phyca **because's cool. Go read her stuff too._

**Author's Note: **I bet you guys (at least some of you) had something dirty in mind when you read the chapter title. And if you didn't before you thought of something just now. But it's not like that. If you're looking for that go back and read the last chapter, or, _"Practice What You Preach"_ by phyca and/or the first chapter of _"A Lucid Dream"_ by sabbath purr. Plug, plug, plug... plugitty, plug-plug.

Plug.

I feel dirty. I'm gonna go shower or something.

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**May 16, 2005**

**Nash Household - 4:11 PM**

**Toronto, Ontario, Canada**

_"I'll be just fine/ Pretending I'm not/ I'm far from lonely an-"_

"Ugh! Turn this shit off!"

"What're you talking about? It's the Used."

"It's a bunch of whiny emo kids who's balls haven't dropped bitching about how their parents never loved them."

Ellie rolled her eyes, but dutifully pressed the 'stop' button on the stereo. Alex felt her lips twitch upward and fought back the smile. She laid back on Ellie's bed, enjoying the soft pillows and reveling in the warm sunlight streaming in from between the blinds. She liked hanging out with Ellie. The banter, the silence, everything. It was just fun.

She felt comfortable with her in a way she hadn't felt with anyone since Jay. Only now she didn't have Jay. She sighed and pushed those thoughts away. Cheating bastard didn't deserve her, anyway.

"So, do you have any _good_ music?"

"What?" the outrage in Ellie's voice was negated by the mirth in her eyes, "that_ was _good music."

"Psh," she rolled her eyes and tossed a pillow in the redhead's general direction, "you've got terrible taste."

"I've got great taste in music!"

"Okay, name some of your favorite bands."

The green-eyed girl paused, thoughtful, "Um, Radiohead, The Cure, Nirvana…"

Alex nodded, slightly impressed.

"… AFI, The Used, Taking Back Sunday, My Chemical Roman-"

"Okay, stop there. You started off fine, but," she sighed dramatically. "Once your looks go, Nash…"

That remark earned a threatening-looking goth boot tossed at her head.

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**End Notes:** Now, if you guys really like me or this story you'll review. Not just feedback, though. I need a favor. Favors, if you wanna get technical. I was serious about the request thing because I'm kinda running dry, here. I need some creativity to leech off of. Yours would be good. Please, help Orange leech? 

Hugs and Kisses,

_-Orange_


	10. Pay

_Disclaimer: _**See previous chapters.**

**Title:** "Pay"

**Tunes: **"All Against All"_ by the Haunted,_ "Got the Life"_ by KoRn,_ "Rain"_ by Erase The Grey._

**People: **_You. Yeah, you. Why? Because you're going to review... Right?_

**Author's Note: **Double Post 'cause I felt like it. This is sort of a prelude to chapter 7 ("A Place"). Check out the date/location headings if you wanna know exactly how far apart they are.

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**January 10, 2006**

**Nunez/Neil Household - 12:32 AM**

**Toronto, Ontario, Canada**

"Shut up!"

The smashing, the screaming, the crying.

"You think you're so much better than me, don't you, Emily!?!?"

She was sick of it.

Sick from it.

"I'll show you, bitch. I'll fucking _show_ you!"

She felt like a child, small and scared, the pillow pressed tight around her ears by quivering, clutching hands not nearly enough protection. When her mother started sobbing the pillow that kept her safe, made her a coward.

"Chad! Chad, _don't_!"

By the way she screamed after this, Alex knew he _had._

She bolted out from under the covers, running out of her room, bare feet making muffled stomping noises in the carpet, loose pajama pants hanging low on her hips. Chad stood over her mother, body rigid, snarling out curse words and threats as he wielded the thick leather belt like a whip.

"I'll," _slap, _"Show," _slap, _"You!"

Alex barreled into him, faintly registering his cry of shock, and managing to wrestle the belt away from him before he could really understand what was going on. She could smell the whisky on him, thick and sharp. It made her gag. There was blood splattered in small flecks up and down his forearms, on his knuckles, his wrists. A reddish line smeared across his face where he had wiped sweat from his cheek.

They slammed into the ground. His body took the brunt of the impact, but her elbow slammed painfully into the floor. She grimaced but managed not to cry out. He roared and surged up, throwing her off him. She landed partially on a empty bottle. Wincing as it shattered underneath her, glass shards imbedding themselves into her body.

She'd bitten into her lip; the blood flooded her mouth, made her sick.

Suddenly, Chad was kneeling next to her. Taking her face between his large, hands; thick fingers wrapping around her head in a painful clutch. He got close to her. And for one terrifying moment she was certain he would try to kiss her.

Furious, dark eyes hazy with alcohol bore into hers. His breath was hot and rank as he spoke, low threatening tones that made her feel cold and scared, "I'm going to make you fucking, _pay, _you little whore."

**

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End Notes:** See next chapter. 

_-Orange_


	11. Common Sense

_Disclaimer: _**See previous chapters.**

**Title:** "Common Sense"

**Tunes:**_ Pretty much the same stuff as last chapter with "_I Just Can't Be Happy Today"_ by The Damned thrown in for taste._

**People: **_Uh-huh._

**Author's Note: **The first of the Diary chapters. This was kinda tough to do because Alex isn't exactly the "Dear Diary" type of person. But, I'm trying to get it realistic and to do this story the way I feel it needs to be done

* * *

**(Excerpt) From the Diary of Alex Nunez**

**April 19, 2001**

**Entry # 1**

_I don't know why I'm keeping this thing. Amy gave it to me, I think. Probably a gag-gift. But now I'm using it._

_This is stupid._

_I always thought the concept was dumb, still do, I guess. What's a diary journal besides a confession? Put your deepest, darkest secrets on paper, feel good (or at least less crappy) for about an hour. Then, days, months, years later someone cracks it open and boom. Your secrets are everyone else's. Where's the privacy? The logic? The common-fucking-sense?_

_Flew out the window when I grabbed this fucking pen, I guess._

_And still, I keep writing._

_Guess I'll never learn. That's what Asshole says, anyway. If I'll Never Learn, why does he insist he has to beat "it" into me? I don't even fucking know what "it" is. This is bullshit. I hope Ma drops him soon, because it's been almost a year. Way too long._

_This is fucking stupid. I'm done writing this shit._

_-A_

**

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End Notes:** Review and I'll love you forever. 

_-Orange_


	12. Future

_Disclaimer: _**See previous chapters.**

**Title:** "Future"

**Tunes: **_"_Monkey Gone To Heaven" _by the Pixies_, _"_Bled for Days"_ by Static-X, and_ "Circles" _by Passenger._

**People: **_adisasfitgreat for giving me the greatest gift of all. That's right, real Degrassi, with real Palex. You rock._

**Author's Note: **Another Diary chapter. I loves me some Christopher Titus.

* * *

**(Excerpt) From the Diary of Alex Nunez **

**June 30, 2005**

**Entry #982**

_I think I might be dying._

_Last night I "Fell down the stairs". And "walked into a door". Let's not forget about me tripping and falling into a meat grinder._

_Oh, wait, that's just what it feels like.Wyatt is one of the biggest fucking assholes my mom has ever dated. And he's got a mean right-hook. _

_Called in sick from work. Meeri didn't sound happy, but she can shove it up her ass. I've stopped giving a fuck. For today, anyway. I almost feel bad… I mean, Paige will probably have to take my shift. It's been weird lately, we've started hanging out. Like, at school and stuff. She even told off Queen-Bitch Hazel when she started talking shit about me._

_Whatever. It's weird._

_Nash and I are hanging out again tonight. She's been especially emo since Sean went back to Wasaga. Jay says he's a pussy. But, I dunno… I kinda get it. I think._

_Maybe Not._

_But probably._

_Subversive. That's what Marco called me today. Didn't know what it meant, so I looked it up. He's basically calling me an Anarchist. Hell Yeah. Although "authority sux" was more like an anti-literacy campaign. They think I'm stupid because my slogan was two words, one of them misspelled. But I'd like to think I'm smarter than they give me credit for. There was a point behind the words. _

_People are sheep._

_Spoon-feed them the shit that they want to hear, or think they want to, and they'll be wrapped around your fucking fingers. I think Christopher Titus once said "If you're normal, the crowd will accept you. If you're deranged they'll make you their leader." _

_Gay-kid went for Normal (irony, much?)_

_I went for Deranged._

_And I still lost. Which I don't really get, y'know? I mean, I told them what they wanted to hear. They had stuff in common with me. Kinda. I know how it is to get left out 'cause your trust-fund consists of next month's welfare check. Be pushed into the dirt. Kicked around. I got that. Marco doesn't. Not really. I mean, I get it. He's gay. It's tough for him and blah, blah, mutherfuckin' blah._

_But still… he's going to college, he's got a decent family (despite a jerk-off dad), he's got a future._

_Maybe that's why they picked him instead of me._

_Only place I'm going is Nowhere. Or a penitentiary. Or a morgue._

_Maybe that's why I look up to Paige. I mean, she's no saint. No hero. But at least she's got a future._

_Where's my future?_

_A dark alley. The bottom of a bottle. A day wasted. A night spent. A joint, smoked to a smoldering stub._

_Fuckin' Poetic, huh?_

_-A**

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**_

**End Notes:** Review. Whether you boost my ego or take it down a notch I don't particularly care as long as I get some feedback. Also it makes me update faster.

_-Orange_


	13. You Know You're Right

_Disclaimer: _**See previous chapters.**

**Title:** "You Know You're Right"

**Tunes: **"You Know You're Right"_ by Nirvana, _"Miserable"_ by Lit, _"Dirty Magic"_ by the Offspring._

**People: **_Uname. She's just entered my power-trio of reviewers. Expanded it to a quartet. Mmmhmm. She's got that kinda weight 'round here. Y'oughta thank her for getting me to update._

**Author's Note: **Hope you like it. Next chapter's not a diary entry. Don't expect that update for a few days.

* * *

**(Excerpt) From the Diary of Alex Nunez**

**October 12, 2005**

**Entry #1,121**

_Got my ass kicked again. Again. Again. A-fuckin'-gain._

_Out of sick days, and I need the cash. So I went to work._

_Bad Idea._

_Paige gave me Hell for it._

_"Lexi, what happened?"_

_"Alex, who did this to you?"_

_"Are you okay?"_

_"Does it hurt?"_

_Does it **hurt**?_

_You're fuckin' A right it hurts._

_I got pissed and snapped. Felt bad afterwards, though. Paige is my** friend**. Something I'd never thought I'd say. Write. Whatever._

_My lip is swollen, I remember how bad it bled. Ruined a shirt, actually. Now the spot where it split open has turned black. It hurts to talk. But the worst is my shoulder. He popped it out of place last night. It hurts like Fuck to move._

_She asked me one more question today._

_I almost cried, but I'm not sure why._

_She hugged me and I let her._

_But I'm not sure why._

_I'm lying to myself right now._

_And I think I know why._

_She asked me, "Are you sad?"_

_Am I sad?_

_I asked her what** she** thought._

_She was quiet for a moment, I almost thought she wouldn't answer. But she did._

_"Yeah, I think you're a lot sadder than you let on."_

_Well, you're right, Paige. _

_(but when are you not?) _

_You're fuckin' A right._

_-A_

_**

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**_

**End Notes:** Review to keep me on my toes and pressure me into updating. 

_-Orange_


	14. Into the Night

_Disclaimer: _**See previous chapters.**

**Title:** "Into the Night"

**Tunes: **I've been on a Jesse Lacey-related trip lately. Brand New, (old, John Nolan era) Taking Back Sunday (well... pretty much just "There's No 'I' in Team") and Straylight Run.

**People: **_Sabbath Purr (really appreciate the offer of support), Coffin of Hope (cool person, great writer), and, as always, DSW. Other reviewers, of course, Doesn'tMeanMuch, Let-Me-Fall-Off, Adidas, The Calender Girl, to name a few. Oh, uname too. uname rocks and should totally post something soon._

**Author's Note: **I know, I know. It's been a while. I've had some rough times, recently and posting hasn't exactly been a priority for me. Between college shit, getting kicked out of my house, and ex-girlfriend getting out of Krazy Kamp I've been kinda... swamped. This is a short update, I know, and I broke my habit of posting in the order I wrote them with this because it's actually the most recent one. But I've also had this... fear seems to strong a word. I feel like the quality of this stuff is gradually deteriorating. And I'd hate to post crap because of all the great feedback I've gotten from you guys so far.

If you guys find my work slipping in any way please, please, _please _**let me know**. So I can improve (re-work?) what I'm doing. Again, sorry for the wait, I'll do my best to keep it from happening again.

* * *

**January 6, 2006**

**Michalchuk Residence- 1:49 AM**

**Toronto, Ontario, Canada**

"But I want you to be able to talk to _me._" Alex hated the way Paige's voice broke on the last word. Hated the wetness in her bright eyes, hated the raw anguish and frustration marring her beautiful features. But most of all she hated that she was the one doing this to Paige.

"I _can't_," it was harsh. Too harsh, "Look… I'm sorry, okay? I just…"

Everything she felt compelled to say was too clumsy and unfitting and stupid. She wished that she was a more graceful orator, but this, she knew, was a pipe-dream. She took a deep breath and tried again, "It doesn't work that way, Paige."

"You can't just show up here, night after night, so messed up you can't even _see_ straight and not expect me to ask questions. Jesus, Lexi, I just want to _help_ you."

She felt heat rise up in her belly, it bloomed violent red in her cheeks - all the way up to the tips of her ears. Her breathing came shorter and her head, which was already swimming threateningly, pounded even harder. Her mouth full of raw venom she spoke, coldly, thoughtlessly, "Fine, then. I won't."

Outrage, shock, pain, guilt, pigheadedness made her reach for the doorknob.

She slammed the door behind her, before she could think about it, really. Wincing at the impossibly loud bang it created, remembering too late that Paige's parents were in a room just down the hall. Her head hurt, and her body ached, and she could still taste copper in her mouth but none of those things mattered because the only thing she could really feel was the combined angst of countless nights finally spilling over.

The soft, broken sounds of Paige's sobs followed her out the door and into the night.

* * *

**End Notes:** Looking through my Stats I found some stuff that kinda pissed me off, and I'm going to call y'all on it. I really, really enjoy and benefit from your reviews. Keeps me motivated, helps my muse, lets me improve as a writer. And it all around boosts my ego and sometimes I need that. But some of you don't review. And, that's okay, I guess, I can deal with that. But what bothers me is being faved and/or put on alert without _one_ review. On one end I'm always glad to be faved/alerted. On the other end it kind of bothers me that someone could enjoy my stuff that much but still not be motivated enough to let me know. So, I'm callin' ya out. Yeah, I really am: 

1. Thatkidthatrocks

2. Young Dirrty

3. Amac xx

4. naleyfan2303

5. Foggy Foxed

6. DushkusBitch (although, I do love the penname - Faith was one of the hottest characters on BtVS)

Shame on all of you. But, there's hope. If you review (promptly!) I'll love you forever and if you happened to be on the list I'll namedrop you under "People" next update. Also, if I don't get a review from at least two of the listed folks don't hold your breath for an update. Yeah, I really did play that card. Sorry for the Bitch-out, guys. This just caught me on a bad... month.

_-Orange_


	15. Must Be

_Disclaimer: _**See previous chapters.**

**Title:** "Must Be"

**Tunes: **_Honestly, I don't remember. Though I'll credit the musical influence on this chapter to Joan Jett and the Blackhearts (namely the new album _Sinner_) and the Lit song_ "My Own Worst Enemy"

**People: **_Dr. Sex Walrus for all the pre-posting help. Check out her blogs. I linked them on my profile._

**Author's Note: **Not much to say. Read and enjoy, I guess.

* * *

**May 3, 2005**

**Degrassi Community School - 5:02 PM**

**Toronto, Ontario, Canada**

It was late. The Student Gov meeting had ran longer than expected, way longer. After the first hour and a half Alex and Marco had sent home the tired, grumpy members of Student Council to enjoy what was left of their Friday. And now, after another hour or so of work, they were done. For the week, anyway.

"Hey," Marco was shrugging on his jacket even though it was warm out and he didn't really need it. "Wanna grab a bite at the Dot?"

And she was kind of shocked that he asked her. But then again, she wasn't, not really. Because Marco was a Nice Guy, even if he was a queer, and that's what Nice Guys did, right? Invited their freak vice-presidents to a meal after an incredibly long meeting to plan Prom for the seniors that were leaving that year. Maybe.

But maybe not.

Either way she was hungry and tired and had a few dollars on her so she said -

"Yeah, sure."

And then they were walking. She was surprised at how easily the conversation came. When she made a subtle joke about an arcane B-horror movie he had gotten it. When she alluded to Lewis Carroll's _Through the Looking Glass_ he'd parried with his own quote from "The Hunting of the Snark". She felt that she masked her surprise and pleasure pretty well. Hands shoved deep in the pockets of jeans (complete with ripped cuffs and holes in the knees), her loner-slouch in perfect form (discouraged, but not _too_ discouraged), she raised an eyebrow (in a manner she had spent exactly forty-nine minutes in front of a bathroom mirror perfecting) and allowed herself a smirk and a nod (really more a slight bob of the head - acknowledgement).

They got to the diner, and snagged the booth in the corner by some miracle. Spinner was on shift and Alex noted with a sort of disconnected pensiveness that she hadn't exchanged more than two sentences at any given time with him since she and Jay broke up.

Conversation was civil, even pleasant; punctuated by thoughtful pauses and sporadic laughter. They managed to talk seriously about official Student Government matters for a whole seven minutes before they dissolved into random drivel. And when their plates were empty and the sun was an hour gone he insisted on picking up the check.

"My treat," he'd assured her.

Alex wondered why he was so nice to her, especially after all the shitty things she'd done to him. She asked, against her better judgment. Marco was silent for a moment, a look of concentration on his face, "I don't really know. I guess I just knew that there had to be more to you than that Anarchist Bad Girl the school knew. I needed to kind of give you the benefit of the doubt."

She told him that was stupid.

"Maybe, but… I try to see the best in people. I'm a romantic, I guess."

Alex couldn't quite understand that. She spent the long walk home contemplating it. After a few blocks she decided that it wasn't a Romantic thing at all. _Must be a Queer Thing_, she thought - frowning mildly at the unexpected wave of guilt and shame that came with the slur. She shrugged it off as she fished through her pockets for the spare key to her apartment.

Must be.

**

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**

**End Notes: **Review, or I'll tumble into a deep, dark, unending depresion and go into unbreakable Writer's Block.

_-Orange_


	16. Don't

_Disclaimer: _**See previous chapters.**

**Title:** "Don't"

**Tunes: **"Touch of Red"_ by In Flames,_ "Like Knives"_ by City and Colour,_ "Broken"_ by Lauren Hoffman,_ "Jennifer's Body"_ by Hole, and_ "Another Shot of Whiskey"_ by The Gits._

**People: **_DSW for sneakily helping me with my Sneaky Super Secret Project which is turning out quite nicely and might be up... this weekend, actually - if things work out. But the real dedication goes out to _**Doesn'tMeanMuch **_who is a great and talented author and does not get all the credit/reviews they deserve. Check out **"Trying"** especially if you're a Jay fan. Great work. Get out there and review, people!_

**Author's Note:** Mega-cool-points to anyone that can tell me where I borrowed the streetname from. This is one of the ones that makes me nervous, guys. I need you to be really, brutally honest in your reviews. How's my writing? If I'm slipping I _need_ to know. Thanks for your time. Hope you guys enjoy it.

* * *

**February 16, 2006**

**Neibolt Street- 6:10 PM**

**Toronto, Ontario, Canada**

"Alex…" there's pleading in his voice and she almost feels bad. Almost feels like she could love him again.

She shakes her head and places her hand on the bridge of her nose, pinching it and wishing that she was anywhere but there, a block away from their old hangout, trying to explain to her ex-boyfriend and former oldest friend how she felt things for another girl that she could never imagine feeling for him.

"I've gotta go, Jay."

"No. No, you can't leave until you explain this to me."

"How the Hell am I supposed to explain something that… You don't get it. You _couldn't_ get it."

"Fuckin' try me!"

"What's the use?"

"Stop bullshitting me, Alex! Jesus, Lex," he sank to the ground, hands in his hair, "I, I thought 'okay, Lexi wants to dive in the closet for a while. She's just fucking me over, like I fucked her. And after I freak out for a few months we'll be back together again. AlexandJay again.' But it's been months! Why… why are you still with her?

"I… I've apologized, Lexi. I _love _y-"

"Don't. Don't say that, Jay."

"But I mean it."

"You're drunk."

"I'm in love!"

She winced.

"Jay…"

"Stop it. Just… stop," he slurred slightly as he spoke. But the sincerity was there. That's why this was so goddamn hard, "Just… tell me why you're with her. Why you're still with her. We were in love, Lexi. Remember? Y-you said you loved me, and I said it back… We were happy. Are you still fucking with me? 'Cause this is twisted. I love you, I love you, love you, love you, love you…"

She shut her eyes tightly. Surprised to find there were tears there.

Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she felt that she still cared for him. Probably more than she should have. He had been (maybe) the most important thing in her life for years. Her best friend, her boyfriend, her counter-part. AlexandJay. Now they seemed miles apart. Jay and Alex. The single, breathing entity they had been had died, sometime in the past year. She wasn't even sure when she fell out of love with Jay.

Even after he'd cheated on her with all those girls she couldn't force herself to stop loving him. But now, she just…

Alex was convinced of one thing, and one thing only: There was absolutely no logic in Love whatsoever.

And it hurt to look at him, there. Sadness rolling off him in great waves, confused and drunk, and angry and sad and so many things that were starting to bleed into her as well. Her heart did painful things in her chest and her breath felt short.

"… love you, love you, love…"

She crouched down next to him, stilling his lips with her fingertips with a gentleness she had almost forgotten she possessed. Jay looked up, ocean-eyes sad and impossibly deep. He gently kissed her fingers, and before she could even register what was happening his mouth was on hers. His tongue lapped hungrily at her lips. Big hands with those thick fingers that used to stroke her hair sometimes when they lay together rested heavily on her shoulders. He smelt like cigarettes and tasted like hard-liquor. In her mouth his tongue felt big and clumsy and… foreign. But the kiss didn't feel like love.

It felt like desperation.

She pushed him back.

"Lexi…" and then he leaned in again.

She shoved him back more forcefully. He looked up, startled, "But…"

"I don't love you, Jay." She meant it.

She rose, brushing dust off her pants and moved to walk away. Jay bounced up quickly, swaying slightly and grabbing her wrist tightly, "Ale-"

"I _don't_ love you, Jay," she repeated, "I… I'm sorry."

She meant that, too.

She pulled out of his grip, surprised at how limp it had become.

Ignoring the ache in her chest and the cold wind that lashed her face like invisible flames. She turned, and walked away, head down, heart heavy, eyes burning. The tears she was holding fell when she heard him slip back down to the ground, sobbing. Jay Hogart. Sobbing in public. Over what? Her. Was she really worth all that grief?

She swallowed her tears, brushed them away only when she turned the corner and sat heavily at the bus stop. Feeling sadness, pain, loss, and…

What might have been relief.

**

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End Notes:** If you enjoyed it, I'd like a review. If you hated I need one. Simple, no? 

_-Orange_


	17. Being

_Disclaimer: _**See previous chapters.**

**Title:** "Being"

**Tunes: **_Aberdeen "Cities & Buses"_, "Sink or Float", "Clouds Like These" (_from the 2002_ Homesick and Happy to Be Here_ album)_

**People: **_Y'know what? You _all_ rock._

**Author's Note: **Double update. 'Cause I love you guys.

* * *

**(Excerpt) From the Diary of Alex Nunez**

**March 4, 2006**

**Entry #1,528**

_Beauty._

_What** is** beauty?_

_Lots of people seem to be curious about it these days._

_They look for it everywhere._

_Magazines, photos, music, television, tabloids, billboards, and shopping malls._

_What** is** beauty?_

_They don't know it, because they've never **experienced** it._

_I've known beauty. I've **experienced** it._

_I've held it in my hands. I've built it, broken it, touched it, smiled at it, tasted it, felt it. But never owned it. You can't own beauty._

_Beauty has turquoise eyes and golden hair. Beauty has wide smiles and soft caresses._

_But what **is** beauty?_

_Beauty is tinkling laughter and quiet admiration._

_Beauty is love irregardless._

_Beauty is Paige Michalchuk._

_New question._

_What is** being in love**?_

_Alex Nunez._

_What is **being whipped**?_

_Not caring._

_-A_

**_

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_End Notes:** See next chapter. 

_-Orange_


	18. Safe

_Disclaimer: _**See previous chapters.**

**Title:** "Safe"

**Tunes: **_Lauren Hoffman_ "Reasons to Fall" _and _"Another Song About the Darkness",_ City and Colour "Sam Malone", Aberdeen_ "Handsome Drink"

**People: **_Same as last chapter._

**Author's Note: **Sweet chapter. Fluffy as all get-out. But, considering all the angst I cram down your guys' throats I guess you deserve these updates. Now, please forgive me for the shameless self promotion I'm about to subject you to. I probably won't hold it against you if you scroll down to the story now. Rapidly. But it'd be cool if you checked out what I've got to say.

Because of my "Drunks, Lovers, Sinners & Saints" failures I had more writing time and felt guilty. Now, there's still no progress on that front (but cross your fingers) but I've started something new. Something I know fans of DLSS will enjoy. "The Icarus Complex" is a Jay/Alex-centric AU with tons of Palex-y goodness coming up. I'd appreciate it if you guys would take a look, leave a review, because I'm feeling a little bit discouraged about the lack of response I've had so far. Thanks for your time. Enjoy the chapter.

* * *

**February 23, 2006**

**Michalchuk Household - 1:13 AM**

**Toronto, Ontario, Canada**

Safety was something that most people took for granted.

Alex didn't.

Lying there, in the cocoon of Paige's arms, gentle breath tickling her shoulder, soft hands, silky skin, the tender press of close lying bodies. Everything seemed almost too good to be true. Maybe it was. In any case, Alex wasn't prepared to let what she had slip through her fingers. She wasn't going to take it for granted.

The bruises, bumps, scrapes, abrasions, had all mostly faded. The only thing that really stood out was the yellowing bruise on her lower back. And the scabbing wound on her elbow. Stucco could be remarkably sharp.

Paige saw these things. She cried. Alex hated her tears. They made her feel terrible.

"You've gotta get out of there, Alex," she would say. "You're gonna die there, Alex."

Like she didn't know?

But, really, there was no place to go.

"Stay here. Stay with me," Paige would disagree.

But this wasn't for her. This… warmth. No, this was Paige's life. Alex didn't belong, this she knew. This, Paige would realize later - then, of course, this wonderful _whatever_ they had would be over. But until then Alex was going to love it. Alex was going to _cherish_ it.

"I just worry about you, Lexi," Paige would confide.

And she had every reason to worry.

Alex thought she must be a terrible girlfriend. Showing up at her girlfriend's house in the middle of the night, bleeding, broken, bruised. And then expecting Paige to "just forget about it, okay?" the next day? Alex realized that what she expected from Paige was unrealistic. No one was perfect, but she was the closest Alex could find to perfection.

It wasn't something she fully understood. Not anything she could ever articulate. But… she felt it, woven deep into the fiber of her heart - her _soul_, maybe - and that was enough, right?

It had to be.

Paige stirred behind her; grip tightening, then loosening, and tightening once more. Alex shifted so that she could face the other girl. Paige was blinking blurrily, blue-green eyes hazy with sleep, eyelids heavy. Blonde hair askew, face still slightly flush, lips swollen, she was the most beautiful thing Alex knew. The leader of the Spirit Squad managed a small, semi-conscious smile laced with confusion.

Alex buried her face in the sleepy girl's neck, delicate kisses falling like raindrops on moist skin. Paige made a strange noise and pulled her closer, hand rising to toy with dark hair. Alex had never really done this sort of thing before Paige. This… cuddling. A nimble tongue darted out to lick the salt from Paige's pulse-point, delighting in her gasp and slight quiver.

When Paige's hands moved from Alex's hair to lower, more exciting places, she knew she had succeeded in waking the girl.

Kissing Paige was an amazing experience. It wasn't like kissing Jay, or random guys, or even random girls(when you're wasted at the Ravine, shit happens - shit you'll deny the next day to everyone but yourself). She'd spent hours thinking about it; trying to figure out what made it so different. So special. It wasn't the taste of Paige, or the feel of her lips, it wasn't the _way_ she kissed, or that cute little thing she did with her tongue. It wasn't in any of the physical or chemical aspects of the actual event. It was…

She wasn't quite sure.

But when they broke the kiss -flush and panting and delirious in their emotion- Alex thought she might have figured it out. Maybe… maybe it was because she didn't love anyone else she'd kissed the way she loved Paige. She didn't think she would ever love anyone else the way she loved Paige. That's what made her special. That's what made them right.

A lot of people took a lot of things for granted.

Safety. Love. Happiness.

Alex vowed that she would never be one of them.

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**End Notes:** Thanks for reading, guys. More reviews I get the faster the next update will be out. 

_-Orange_


	19. Father

_Disclaimer: _**See previous chapters.**

**Title: "**Father"

**Tunes: **_The Offspring_ "Gone Away"_ , eightfourseven _"Hands of Black_", Corrosion of Conformity "_Shelter", _Brand New_ "Millstone" _and_ "Jesus"

**People:** _sabbath purr - who is awesome and should be revered as a god. I just hope she really likes Fruit Loops and the lighting in my basement. But, Orange, you say. You live in California, you don't have a basement. Well, y'know what? I'll get one. Just for her. Also, a shoutout to my darlin' buddy uname. Haven't heard from you in a few chapters, dude. I miss your ego-inflating, refreshingly grammatical reviews._

**Author's Note: **Sorry it's been so long. Seriously, I feel like a jerk, but shit comes up and sadly, real life is my priority. Between dealing with grad and sorting out personal stuff I haven't had much time for writing. Honestly, guys, I'm thinking about wrapping this thing up. It's got no real plot, and lately ideas are... it's not that they're not there. It's just that I'm having a hard time getting them typed up, y'know? Don't quote me on this. I'm not very sure of anything at the moment. Only thing I can tell you guys for sure is to expect updates much less frequently. For Sepia if nothing else. Although, hopefully, I'll be able to keep up with The Icarus Complex. I've recently Palex-ed out for that one. Yeah, I was name-dropping my own stuff. So what?

* * *

**February 16, 2003**

**Nunez Residence- 8:51 PM**

**Toronto, Ontario, Canada**

She's sitting. Just _sitting_. Just home from hanging out at with Jay and the Boys, and Amy. The TV is on, but the sound is almost mute - commercials. She hated them enough to remove the sound while they were on. It bothered Jay, and Ricky, and her Mother and her Mother's boyfriend (some burly idiot with a one-syllable name and more hair on his back and arms than the top of his head). But she didn't care. Fuck commercials.

She's kinda sleepy, kinda jumpy, because earlier they had smoked an entire bowl of weed and although it's been a while she's still feeling it. She's just starting to nod off when her mother comes in, shoes making amusing squishing noises, water rolling off her dark coat in thick _plops, _door slamming loudly into the chipping drywall. Alex looks up startled.

"Hey, Ma… swim here?"

But Emily isn't smiling. She looks grim and almost… smug, in a way. Maybe. It's hard to tell with her makeup running like that and the way she's squinting to keep water out of her eyes. The older Nunez slowly removes her outer layers of clothing, placing a damp bag of canned goods and other nonperishable on the counter adjacent the door, ringing out her umbrella.

Throughout everything the one detail that stands out the most is the overwhelming silence of it all.

"Mom?"

Emily looks up but doesn't respond for several long seconds, "Help me put the groceries up, Alex."

And that makes Alex worry because she never calls her "Alex" unless something's wrong. She swallows hard and notices that her throat feels… tighter.

After all the bags and cans and packages and loafs are put away, quickly, quietly, and efficiently her mother grabs a beer out of the refrigerator and takes a heavy seat on the couch. Alex grabs a coke and follows, palms wet and itchy. They sit and listen to the rain and Alex is struck by a sudden bolt of fear, so hot and electric that it immobilizes her. Makes her feel sick and sticky and terribly nervous. Her mother's mouth opens and suddenly all Alex wishes for is the silence back, because she knows that the words not yet spoken are going to kill her.

"Your father is dead."

Alex heard her. She understood her. But still, she finds herself speaking anyway, "Wuh… _What_?"

Emily nods, pinching the bridge of her nose and taking several long swallows from the can in her hand that is suddenly too small.

"He's dead, Lexi. Deceased, passed on, dead. He died."

The words hit her with the force of a brick to the back of the head. The breath rushes from her lungs and she feels tears carve a path down her cheeks, which had been drained of red from shock. She's not sure, exactly, why she's crying. Her father was never the most loving of men, or generous, or especially kind. And she was so young when he left that she shouldn't have had any emotional attachment to him whatsoever.

But she can still remember those rare but wonderful days when he would come home. Reeking of fish, and the sea, and whisky, and tobacco. Big, strong arms that would wrap her in a fatherly embrace. Slippery rain slicker and scratchy flannel and that wiry brown beard that he used to tickle her with when he kissed her on the cheek. She remembered how his chest would rumble when he held her like that and spoke to her. Remembered some of the stories he would tell her on those long nights she wouldn't be able to sleep.

How he would always look very, very sorry after he hit her, because it Hurt Him More Than It Hurt Her and he _worried_ about her and just wanted her to be okay. Be a _good girl._ And that sometimes he had to teach her thing the _hard way_ because it was the only way she could really _learn_. The hate that would swell in her heart after he hurt her. The immediate wave of guilt and love that would follow it because _good girls_ didn't hate their fathers.

She wasn't a _good girl_.

Maybe if she had been he would have come back from his Walk all those years ago.

She let the tears fall, knew that trying to stop them would only make things more difficult. Only get her more worked up. And when Emily grunted and brushed past her and into the kitchen for harder liquor Alex allowed herself to curl into a ball on the couch and cry into the stained cushions because that was what a _good girl_ would have done if her father had died.

* * *

**End Notes:** Review, please. 

_-Orange_


	20. Kiss

_Disclaimer: _**See previous chapters.**

**Title: "**Kiss"

**Tunes: **aberdeen's "Sink or Float" "Thousand Steps"_ , a chunk of Lauren Hoffman's album_ Choreography, _now, I bet you're all thinking "Really, Orange? Lauren Hoffman." Hells affirmative, Lauren Hoffman. She's not usually my bag, I know, but chick can sing. And some of the riffs on _"Solipsist_" are pretty fuckin' cool. Anyone who's a fan of South of Nowhere would probably recognize the song_ "Reasons to Fall" _because it's been used like, twelve times in 2 seasons._

**People:** _Orange. Yup, this update is my birthday present to me. 'Cause I'm shallow like that. I'm finally legal. Excuse me for making this short but I need to go scale the walls of Alyson Hannigan's house naked. Sorry I beat you to it, Doc._

**Author's Note: **So, I had time to think after my AN in The Icarus Complex and I've tweaked my chapter-count. You are about to read the first of the last five updates. Soon's I hit 25 I'm done with this one. It's weird. But, I figure it's had a good run and I'm okay with ending it. I'd really like to hit 200 reviews before I end this, and I'd really love your guys' support. Thanks.

* * *

**January 6, 2006**

**Danver Residence- 9:39 PM**

**Toronto, Ontario, Canada**

"Can I kiss you?" she knew she could, but she likes asking. Likes the way it sounds. The way it makes her feel. The slight, breathless pause before the answer. But the thing she likes the most is how Paige always, _always_ says-

"Yes."

The party they were at was entirely too crowded, too hot, too loud, too filled with prying eyes and pointed whispers. Outside, leaning on the pinkish stucco of the house, shielded by high fences and a tall oak tree they had their own world. The thick, sludgy pulse of claustrophobic music from the house, the party, the people, the pointless ness of if all- everything was dulled by inches of sheetrock and insulation. It pulsed around them, mingling with chilly night air and blissful solitude; weaving a blanket of unreality.

Paige smelt good; like shampoo and body wash, and clean clothes, perfume. Alex noticed a stark contrast in their scents, but also, how absolutely _amazing_ they were together. The smoky, acrid scent of tobacco woven deep into the fibers of her coat, mixed with vanilla shampoo, and traces of weed, and the handful of peppermint candies (she'd stolen from a "kinda swanky" restaurant an _eternity_ _ago_ but had never gotten around to eating) that were stuffed deep into her pockets - sticky and running with color.

When they pulled away to breathe Alex buried her face into Paige's collar, breathing deeply and exhaling heavily. Paige's left arm was wrapped around her waist, her right hand stroking her hair. She felt the press of pink lips against her scalp through a thick coat of hair and smiled against the warm cotton that kept her from even warmer skin.

"Lexi?"

"Hmm."

"This is nice."

"Yeah…"

And there was that beautiful quiet. It was never awkward, or uncomfortable, or weird. Quiet breathing, gentle almost imperceptible brushes of soft bodies. Alex wet her lips.

"Paige?"

"Yeah."

"Can I kiss you again?"

The blonde had the most beautiful smile…

Alex liked the world they had there, outside the party, between the trees and fences, against the wall of the house. The warm smell that wafted around them and into her nostrils. The soft skin, and fabric, and lips, and touches that consumed her there. She liked when Paige spoke to her, about nothing, really. Her day, her friends, her homework, her annoyances. She liked the comfort and familiarity and safety of it all.

But most of all she liked how, whenever she asked for permission to kiss her, the blonde always said-

"Yes."

* * *

**End Notes:** Review, make these last five count, 'folks. 

_-Orange_


	21. Sepia

_Disclaimer: _**See previous chapters.**

**Title: "**Sepia"

**Tunes: **_The Smiths _"How Soon is Now?"

**People:** _Georgey-boy Washington and the rest of the founding fathers. Thanks for, like, the country and stuff._

**Author's Note: **Short. But I have a new deadline that I won't be divulging. So, anything I mentioned to anyone in a review reply shouldn't exactly be disregarded, but just know that this thing will probably end a good deal sooner than I might've anticipated. But then again, maybe I'll change things after this so... y'know what? Just stop paying attention to me. Seriously.

'Kay, so if you're curious, this piece used to be a lot longer and tied in to my original concept of plot for this thing, because _suprise!_ It used to have one. I ditched _that _trainwreck about eight chapters back, though. You're a lot better off this way.

* * *

**April 1, 2005**

**TO Liquor - 5:21 AM**

**Toronto, Ontario, Canada**

She lived her life in sepia. Washed out shades of dull brown and translucent grays.

The scabs on her skin, the swell of her knuckles, the ragged whistle of her breath, slouch of shoulders, hollow eyes, quiet self-destruction.

Sepia.

Nothing spectacular.

It was how she lived.

In alleys, and Ravines, and shadows. Closets, shelters, jail-cells, detention-halls. Liquor-stores, parking lots, house parties, public schools.

It was how she would die.

The cigarette smoke burned her lungs. It seemed fitting; to be scorched from the inside, this way. She exhaled an unremarkable puff of grayish air. A sigh. A flutter of eyelashes. The impatient tap of a sneaker-clad foot on crumbling concrete.

Sepia was the color of old photographs and ancient books.

The sun was rising, now. She'd been out here for hours. Chill was starting to set in, making the small hairs on her arms and neck stand erect; goose pimples rising on her flesh. The skin on her face still felt hot, though, where he had hit her. All the peroxide and butterfly bandages in the world would never hide the scars, though. A month from now, when she had healed, she would still feel it burn.

Sepia was nothing to admire.

* * *

**End Notes:** Review, please. 

_-Orange_


	22. Do

_Disclaimer: _**See previous chapters.**

**Title:** "Do"

**Tunes: **_The Pixies _"Holiday Song" _Brand New_ "Sudden Death in Carolina", _Scarling._ "Stapled to the Matress", _Hopesfall _"Swamp Kittens",_ aberdeen_ "Drive"

**People:** _Written all by my lonesome._

**Author's Note: **Just a bit longer, this time. Not my best, but it doesn't make me want to pull my hair out and rock back and forth, so you guys should be fine.

* * *

**May 1, 2003**

**Sullivan Street; Lot #1883, Holland Realtors: 12:03 - PM**

**Toronto, Ontario, Canada**

Skywriters tore holes in blue skies. Bleeding white smoke and imitation cloud into subdued tones of robin's egg. The laughable, speck of a plane continued it's visual assault on the sky and Alex followed it's path until it disappeared from her view and the bright gouge in the sky faded back into that dull, uniform dust blue it had been the entire day. Behind her, she heard Jay lighting something, and felt his body press into her from behind.

"Hey, Lex?" his voice was warm, and thick, and sleepy; like syrup left on top of the oven.

He smelled like cigarettes and cheap cologne and his breath was marijuana and mint gum; but it was a familiar smell, a safe smell - even if it did feel like it would choke her with it's intensity. But, that was life with Jay in general. Intense. Almost suffocating.

But when he nuzzled the soft hairs on the back of her neck and whispered that maybe they should stay at his place that night she decided that she didn't mind. They'd had sex a few times. Two, actually. The first time was pretty bad. It was sweaty and clumsy and kinda hurt and it was over almost before it started. But, when she lay there, mostly limp and trying to sort out her feelings Jay had pulled her into a surprisingly tender embrace and kissed her right behind the ear. He told her that she was his best friend. And she had asked him, tiredly, if he did what they just did with all of his best friends. And Jay had laughed and tickled her, and even though she was sore and tired and kind of sad she laughed with him and let him kiss her and fell asleep curled up against his side with his arms around her small frame.

She didn't regret it. There were times where she could barely stand to be in the same room with Jay. He could get insanely jealous, he could get pissed over the smallest things. He flirted with other girls all the time, he got into fights at least once a week. They fought over the tiniest, most insignificant things. He would explode for no reason. Sometimes he made her so miserable she wanted to just walk out the door and keep going.

But, he was comfortable. He was _Jay_. There were times when he could be soft, and thoughtful, and, hell, even _loving._ He was fun and exciting and he cared about her. She knew he did. They were the same. Two halves of one fucked up whole. And Alex without Jay was incomplete. Since that first awkward kiss years ago they had been _AlexandJay_ and _AlexandJay_ were sure as Hell better off than Alex and Jay had been.

She needed him. Maybe even loved him. It was hard to tell, sometimes. But, on those long nights where everything ached and his lip was busted and her arms were sore and eyes were black and they held each other silently; both broken, both bloody, both bruised she felt like she did.

He placed his hands on her hips and slipped his thumbs down the waistband of her jeans and leaned closer; brushing chapped lips across the soft curve where her neck became her shoulder. She brought her hands away from her mouth where she had been nervously gnawing on her fingernails and placed them over his. She noticed with quiet reattachment as she glanced at her tan appendages rested atop his that her thumb was bleeding slightly where she'd bitten the nail too short. The revelation was forgotten in an instant. Blood was nothing new to her.

She wasn't really sure what compelled her to speak but the words left her mouth without any real form of conscious thought. "Do you love me?"

They were spoken at the exact moment Jay exhaled a warm breath of smoke against her skin. His lips stilled on her neck and he remained perfectly still for several moments. The only audible sounds were mutual ragged breathing and the distant, perpetual growl of far away cars, punctuated by the occasional siren. She wasn't sure how long they stood there, completely unmoving. Her gaze still locked on the patch of sky that had been painted blistering ivory.

"Wh… _what_?"

She exhaled, mentally asking herself the same question, "Nevermind."

He shifted behind her and she could tell by the tension in his body that he was nervous. He turned her gently and locked his gaze on her face. His ocean-eyes were cloudy and hard to read. His jaw was clenched so tightly she wondered if his teeth would crack in his mouth. That one little muscle on his upper cheek jumped uneasily.

He bit his lip and looked about to speak but she cut him off before he could say anything because, suddenly, she didn't want to hear his answer. It was stupid, to be afraid. Stupid. Right?

She kissed him, quickly, roughly. A neurotic closed-mouth kiss that had no purpose other than to prevent him from speaking. She told herself that whatever he said didn't matter because it was only a word and words didn't mean a god damn thing. Words made things messy and complicated and they sure as Hell didn't need any more of _that_.

She pulled back and grinned at him and pretended that nothing happened. And he laughed, a slightly high-pitched titter that sounded half relieved, half disturbed. She felt stupid. Jay looked kind of freaked out. She asked him if she could bum a smoke and he said "yeah" and then she kissed him again. He smiled and asked if she wanted to get outta there and she said she did and followed him under the chain-link fence and out of the lot.

The rest of the day she spent smoking pot with loosely deemed friends and trying to ignore that strange looks Jay gave her when he thought she wasn't looking.

* * *

**End Notes:** 22 down; 3 to go. C'mon, guys, make me proud. Expect an update in 2-3 days, if you review. 

_-Orange_


	23. Sick

_Disclaimer: _**See previous chapters.**

**Title:** "Sick"

**Tunes: **_Scarling. _"(Northbound On) Cahuenga"

**People:** _redraisin. Dedication-tag!_

**Author's Note: **Short. Just like this author's note!

* * *

**May 24, 2005**

**Degrassi Community School - 10:53 AM**

**Toronto, Ontario, Canada**

When she sees him she feels like there's a vacuum over her trachea and it's collapsed her lungs.

He's in a wheelchair.

She's talking to Ellie at the time but when she sees him she closes her eyes, words withering and dying in her throat. She feels her dinner rising and bolts for the bathroom. She manages to get the stall open and drops to her knees in front of the toilet before she spills her stomach contents all over the porcelain.

It goes on for several minutes, she feels hands pulling back her hair and squeezes her eyes tighter shut. After a time she's simply heaving painfully into the toilet but nothing is coming out. Stringy strands of saliva and vomit dangle from her lips and she spits. Her face feels hot, her head is pounding, her ribs and stomach ache.

Ellie's asking her something but the only thing she can hear is the sound of laughter after Rick got coated with the stuff in the bucket. The gunshots that rang out clearly even from outside the school. The sound of the ambulances and blood rushing through her ears.

She sees Jimmy being wheeled out on the gurney. Sees him in the wheel chair.

Even when she opens her eyes he's _there_.

Alex's eyes roll back into her head and she heaves into the toilet once more.

She goes home sick that day.

* * *

**End Notes:** Okay, guys. Only two more. Please, make these last few really great for me. Keep the review-love comin' 

_-Orange_


	24. Mother

_Disclaimer: _**See previous chapters.**

**Title:** "Mother"

**Tunes: **_Brand New _"Handcuffs", _City and Colour_ "The Sleeping Sickness_", Hole_ "Doll Parts",_ Glassjaw_ "Ape Dos Mil", _Opeth_ "Weakness"_ and_ "Death Whispered a Lullaby"

**People:** _You. Seriously. If you're reading this, you've sat through 23 (soon to be 24) chapters of rampant emotions, ranging from forms of my own angst translated into writing, to sugary fluffs the likes of which Disney hasn't even seen. No matter when you're reading this, and whether you've been with this thing since the beginning or this is your first run through, I appreciate the dedication it takes to sit with a story this long. I hope it means you've enjoyed reading it, at least half as much as I've enjoyed writing it._

**Author's Note: **This is weird for me. Y'know, being so close to the end. I can't really think of anything to say, here, so I'll just keep this note short. I hope you guys enjoy the chapter.

* * *

**December 27, 2005**

**Nunez Residence - 12:27 AM**

**Toronto, Ontario, Canada**

Alex's mother was on the cusp of consciousness.

When Alex stopped in after hanging out at the Dot with Ellie, Marco, and Paige she intended it to be a quick visit; so she could change and maybe get that assignment for Kwan done. She was due to meet Paige at Degrassi sometime after 5:00. Spend a few minutes watching her cheerlead and sit through a testosterone contest between brainless Degrassi jocks and brainless jocks from another school. Afterwards they were supposed to go out. Maybe catch a movie or get some dinner.

A nice evening.

But at precisely 4:49 her mother stumbled through the front door. Carrying bags full of liquor and sobbing. Her cheek was swollen and her right eye was black.

That's when Alex noticed that some of their stuff was missing.

There was nothing quite like the shame she felt when she had to call Paige and cancel their plans. She was vague as she could be, but the sympathetic way Paige said "Okay, Lexi," made her feel like her cheeks would combust.

Someplace between icing her mother's cheek and attempting to get her to put the bottle down Alex managed to coax her mother into telling her what happened.

She had fought with Chad. Chad had gotten angry. He had hit her. He took their stuff. He left.

She hadn't seen him since noon that day.

Yes, she had been drinking since he left.

No, she hadn't called the cops.

She was sorry. She was so sorry and this was the last time she would ever let a deadbeat like Chad take advantage of her.

Alex knew it was a good idea to stay behind when at around 8 o'clock Alex's mother began to vomit in her sleep and Alex had to roll her over and clean her up.

Emily's head was currently buried in Alex's lap and she was mumbling things that Alex couldn't understand and didn't really want to. Absently, Alex reached out a hand and pushed her mother's dark hair away from her damp face.

She didn't want to look at her, because sometimes that felt too much like looking into a mirror and nothing terrified Alex more.

When her mother slurred, "I love you, Lexi" for the fiftieth time she felt a myriad of emotions rise in her chest; pity, anger, guilt, frustration, disgust, despair, helplessness.

Love.

She ran a hand through her hair.

Nights like these she felt like more of a mother than Emily had ever been.

* * *

**End Notes:** Last chance to let me know how you feel before the end. I'd really, really appreciate the review. 

_-Orange_


	25. Floodlights

_Disclaimer: _**See previous chapters.**

**Title:** "Floodlights"

**Tunes: **_I listened to two songs (repeating) the entire time I wrote this. City and Colour's cover of Kristofer Astrom's_ "How Come Your Arms Are Not Around Me_" and the cover of Alexisonfire's_ "Boiled Frogs"

**People:** _Doctor Evil. This one's all you, man. The coolest guy I've ever been lucky enough to call my friend. Thanks so much for... everything. Just being who you are. This isn't much, but it's the least I could do. You're amazing, man, and I only hope I can turn out to be half the person you are. Hope you enjoy the chapter._

**Author's Note: **This is it, guys. Thanks so much to everyone who's read and reviewed. I could go on for a long, long time, but I think I've said all I need to say. God, this is so weird, I have no idea how to do this.

I hope you guys like the end.

* * *

**July 15, 2006**

**Hall Park; Division St & Adjournment Blvd - 3:01 AM**

**Toronto, Ontario, Canada**

"It just…" she exhales, watching the white puff of steam slowly dissipate, "sucks sometimes, y'know?"

She feels Paige's arms wrap tighter around her, feels a tender kiss pressed into her temple, "I know."

She shivers, "I like it here."

Paige speaks with a smile in her voice, "It's nice."

The gravel is cold beneath them. The baseball diamond has long since been abandoned. But, that's only logical seeing as it's the middle of the night and no sensible people hang out around baseball diamonds this late. She closes her eyes, breathes in the cold air, and concentrates on the feeling of Paige's thumbs brushing against her side.

"Do you know why I brought you here?" Alex's voice is so quiet she wonders if maybe all she did was think the words.

Paige shakes her head and speaks quietly around the shell of Alex's ear, "No."

Alex shifts, steps away and extends her hand to the blonde. Paige takes it without hesitation and Alex leads them to the dugout. She slips in, kicking a forgotten catcher's mitt out of the way and rests on the bench. When Paige sits beside her Alex pulls her into a kiss. It's slow, but builds quickly. Paige has a habit of nibbling on her bottom lip and she always tastes so good Alex can't even begin to fathom a life where she didn't get to kiss the blonde. When she pulls away they're both breathless and Paige's eyes are saying everything the warmth in Alex's stomach wants them to.

She rests her forehead against Paige's, "I've never brought anyone here. But I've wanted to… share this with you for," she exhales shakily, brushes a strand of hair behind Paige's ear, "for a long time."

Paige kisses the side of her mouth softly in an effort to coax more words. Alex realizes how labored their breathing has become and is tempted to pull away just long enough to recapture her breath. She decides against it.

"I used to come here, sometimes. When things got bad at home. My…my mother used to take me when I was younger. She'd leave me here sometimes. For hours… Sometimes she'd stay. But…"

She feels her hands trembling and busies them in the fine hairs at the nape of Paige's neck. She kisses the blonde again, capturing Paige's bottom lip between her own and sucking softly. Reveling in the small noises Paige makes. When she pulls away again blue-green eyes are so wide and shiny that Alex thinks she could fall right into them.

She could drown in Paige's eyes and she'd hope they never found the body.

"It's special. This place is… it's safe. I wanted to bring you here because…"

Her throat constricts and she can't continue.

Paige frowns softly and brushes the tips of her fingers across Alex's cheek. Alex closes her eyes and leans into the palm. Paige kisses her again, briefly, "Because what?"

Somehow she knows she hast to say this. Tonight. If she doesn't speak now the words will build and build and build until they burst out her ribcage. Splattering bone fragments, dark blood, muscle tissue and chunks of her heart all across the dugout. She opens her eyes, glances at the floodlights (someone must have forgot to turn them off after tonight's game), and tries to draw strength from the warmth in Paige's eyes.

"I love you."

She hears Paige's sharp intake of breath and wishes she could call the words back into her mouth. Alex squeezes her eyes shut and scoots backwards, "I'm sorry… I-I'm an idiot. I just… I _had_ to say it, and I'm sorry if I fucked things up but-"

"I love you, too," the words come out in a tumble. As if they were racing to beat each other past soft, pink lips. Alex stares at Paige wondering if the past few minutes were all some dream.

"What?"

Paige smiles, pulls Alex closer, kisses her soundly. "I said I love you."

Alex blinks heavily and swallows. "Uh…" she lets out a shaky chuckle, "really?"

Paige kisses her again, more forcefully. Hands in Alex's hair, across her stomach, cupping her breasts, her cheek, dipping under the elastic straps of her bra. Alex sits still, barely managing to reciprocate; the words running about her skull, dancing along her eyelids, filling her mouth and lungs and veins. She feels Paige attempting to divest Alex of her shirt and gathers enough concentration to assist her.

The air is cold but that doesn't matter. Alex sits in her bra, in a dugout, on a bench in the middle of the night as Paige fiddles with the button of her jeans. She pushes Paige back until she's laying on the bench. It's just wide enough for them to fit. Her lips trace Paige's jugular, tongue sweeping out to lick the beading sweat off the blonde's collar bone. Alex manages to get Paige's jeans loose, but has trouble slipping them off. The blonde arches her hips upwards and places her hands over Alex's. The pants land on the floor, a small cloud of red dust rising up and dispersing. Alex hopes she won't be too upset about having to wash them.

When Alex's hand slips under Paige's panties the blonde gasps. Her eyes shoot open before fluttering closed. Her hands clutch Alex's shoulders desperately. Alex closes her eyes and buries her face in the crook of Paige's neck. The skin is salty but soft and it always smells so good. Alex whispers that she loves her as she rocks against Paige's thigh and the blonde moans out her name.

The floodlights keep shining.

* * *

**End Notes:** Review, guys. Please. 

_-Orange_


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